


We Are The Saviors

by Walkingdeadjunk



Category: The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms, The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M, Inspired by The Walking Dead, Multi, Romance, The Walking Dead References, Walkers (Walking Dead), Zombies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-21
Updated: 2017-03-11
Packaged: 2018-09-26 04:06:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 16,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9861755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Walkingdeadjunk/pseuds/Walkingdeadjunk
Summary: OC x Negan & Simon love story.What did the Saviors have to deal with before Ricks group? What made them to be what they're today?"It's better to be good than evil, but one achieves goodness at a terrific cost."





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story is based off AMC's TV show The Walking Dead. This starts before Rick's group is involved with the saviors. I'm going to write about other groups and things they had to deal with before we see them in season 6. What made them become what they're today.
> 
> It has two perspectives, my character Amelia, and AMC's Simon. Amelia will be odd chapters and Simon will be even chapters.
> 
> For this book I want to explore things that the show or the comics haven't. We haven't had much interaction with Simon yet so I'm taking his character to a new-ish level. Same with others, realism is important to me.

Warning: Strong language, medium violence.

Word Count: 1,052

Chapter 1: Black Forest ( Amelia's perspective )

All I see are spots of green in my vision as I'm running through unfamiliar trees. As I turn back to shoot my 45 a couple times, the already big mob of rotting bodies has doubled in size. I feel like I'm going to past out! I guess not eating for five days, and being woken up in the dead of sleep just to drop everything and run is proving hard on my body and brain. I turn my head back and see a small clearing with a small red house. "Fuck yes!"

Panting; I run for the house, hoping no one lives here and shoots me on sight. I sloppily slam into what I semi process as the front entrance; "shit!" it's boarded from both sides. As I turn around to stumble off the porch I realize I have no time to investigate further. "Fuck!" I frantically click the trigger but nothing shoots. Looking around; there must be close to thirty of them all looking to bite into my flesh. This is it. This is where I die.

There is about twenty feet between me and those rotters. Reaching into my flannel pocket, my hands find the shiny copper bullet I've been saving for this very situation. I'm not going to be eaten alive! I load the gun, and press it to my temple. As the dead get closer my body moves backward, as if my physical body is still trying to survive whilst my thoughts start to go silent. My cracked lips fight to part to speak my last words when I spot a gutter running vertically up to the top of the house. My body flings forward without thinking and I swear I've never jumped higher.

I make it halfway up the house from the jump alone, my fingers desperately grip the gutter on the corner of the house. Rotters are already at my feet barely skimming the rubber on my boots. I have to make it up this fucking roof. I start trying to climb with my toes clenching in my boots trying to fit into the latches where the gutter is drilled into the bricks. With my tiredness and the harsh growls of the dead I barely had the sense to hear the squeaking of the screws rubbing together. This shit is about to fall! My hands finally find the top of the house and with every ounce of strength I have I push my left foot off the bricks and swing it in the air to meet the edge of the roof. With half my body still hanging off the edge, the gutter goes crashing down onto a couple of the rotters heads. I barely muster a half smirk whilst I pull the rest of my body onto the flat surface.

I can't stop gasping for air. I run my fingers along my face and skim the rest of my body. "I'm alive" I mumble. My fingers make their way to my waist, then to my holster and I realize I lost it in my spontaneous jump from death. I roll over and look down, there are so many of them I can't even see where it fell. Their lifeless eyes stare back at me as their arms lust out for my flesh. Looking at the dead too much makes me remember that night; I quickly shove the thought from my mind. I can barely move so I slink my way to the center of the roof and curl up. I have absolutely no energy, and right now I'm hoping if I close my eyes they will all be gone by morning.

I'm so exhausted I only wake up to the second shot. My eyes fling open but I don't move. "Come and get it bitches!" All I hear are men's voices and a large lump rises to my throat. Alone with men in the apocalypse hasn't, and will probably never be a good thing, I've seen it, lived it. The sun is still high in the sky; did I really sleep a full day? My old friend adrenaline tries to make a comeback but fails miserably. I gingerly inch my way to the back of the house, away from the voices. One of the men speaks; he has a small and annoyingly bitchy voice, "Woah! Boss, haven't seen this many in one place since...well shit, the beginning!" More gun shots follow. This is my chance, they won't hear me.

I look down and there are only two rotters, but they're making their way to the noise. Fuck me, I think to myself as I see that the back of the house has some sort of plastic sun visor. That would've been a much better option then the goddamn gutter. I grunt as I press my body as close as I can to the roof and slowly inch my way to the beginning of the plastic. I droop one leg onto it, still looking the way of the voices. I figure that the roof is flat, and there's a chance they saw my foot, but considering it still sounds like a scene from Scarface they're distracted for now. My hand finds the visor as my leg slowly drifts off it to meet the ground. I'm halfway off the visor when the firing stops. My body freezes in place; I turn my head back to the direction of the front of the house to listen, when a rotter grabs my leg. Frantically I try to shake it off, beating its head with my boot. Only my hands remain on the visor and both feet are dangling trying to break free. I have no strength left.

I land elbow first onto the concrete slab. I hear a loud snap and feel vomit slither its way to my throat. I let out a cry of pain as I hit the ground smashing the rotters head with my body weight. "Simon, you hear that?" I can hear the men's footsteps. My last attempt at survival is to try and crawl back into the woods, but as my vision starts getting blurrier and blurrier, and the footsteps get closer and closer, I feel my body wanting to rest...I have no choice but to obey.


	2. Jane Doe

Warning: Strong Language, slight violence

Word Count: 1,278

Chapter 2: Jane Doe ( Simon's perspective )

I turn the corner of the house and see a women lying face down with corpse guts all over her ass. Damn. Where the hell did she come from?

"Well what the hell are ya'll looking at? Help me turn her over!" I demand.

My men scramble over to the body. "Careful...careful!" Being as delicate as I can, I take her shoulders and start to turn her over. "Boss she might be bit..." I shoot him a stern look and glance at the rest of the guys; I can tell they're all thinking the same thing. Cam gets down and moves her hips. For some reason that just really fucking rubs me the wrong way; him touching an unconscious woman.

I move her hair out of her face, watching closely for any signs of movement. I physically have to lean back in awe, she's so beautiful. She has cracked rosy lips and soft long golden hair. I tilt my head tracing her jaw line with my eyes. Cam leans over to interrupt my thoughts and whispers "Man looks like I just found me a new girlfriend." Next thing I know I'm knocking Cam on his ass and hands are already separating us.

"Okay it's over get off!" I don't really know which I'm more upset about; the fact that my men felt the need to step in at all, as if I was him, as if I'd take things too far. Or the fact if he got into a fight, his men wouldn't dare step in. Am I upset that they don't fear me? Do I really want them to fear me...my own men..?   
Screw this....

"Cam go get the truck, and see if there's anything to put down on the bed of it!" I stare through him as my ego gets amped a little. He nods and soon disappears to the front of the house. I turn to the rest of my men, which are all staring at her. "All you fucks go get the supplies we came for." They all looked stunned, just coming out of a trance. "Fucking now!"

Jesus. Am I really that weak that I have to talk like him because of my pussy personality? I swallow the knot that's made its way to my throat. I drop my gaze down to the woman. With all the commotion she hasn't woken up or even moved. Or maybe she's pretending, and wants to slit your throat the first chance she gets. I shake my head with the thought, someone that pretty can't have those thoughts going through her little head.

My team proved useful and found some wool blankets in the cabin and laid them down in the bed of the truck. "Look Si, I didn't mean it...like with the girl...I, ah..." Cam's voice shakes. I hate the sense of power it gives me but I play along. "You'll do good to remember who your boss is out here and what I allow and what others do is very different", I say as I tap his cheek twice and I push past him.

Neil and a couple others load the truck with supplies and start to load the girl. I see them cringing as not knowing what to expect from her. "Jesus guys it's a female not a great white" I say pretty amused at their furrowed brows. "Is there a difference?" Neil jokes as the others shyly laugh. They get their shit together, and finally we're all packed. "Should I be the one to sit with her?" Cam offers. With my head tilted I stare at him, my silence is my answer. He leaves for the driver's seat with his hands raised. God damn if I could just kick his ass right here and now.

It takes close to three hours to get back to the Sanctuary. I've kept a close eye on her the whole time but she stays passed the hell out. "Neil go get the Doc. Cam and the rest of you get this shit put away." You're being punitive...

Cam stares at me in disbelief. "Hey should I get Negan, he would want to see her."

So this is how you want to play it huh?

"Well she obviously needs a doctor before she can be a fucking bride if that's what you're thinking. So I'd suggest you go do your fucking job before you and I have a real problem."

And just like that he's gone without any of his signature eye rolls or pouting. Fucking pussy.   
"Well Doc what do you think? Why hasn't she woken up?"

Carson looks up to me after examining her and shakes his head. "Well she seems to be really malnourished, to the point that she would've died in a few days probably. And she has a broken arm and a pretty bad bruised hip".

He then turns to me and grabs my arm to talk in the corner. I look at his hand on my arm "Carson, you and I aren't good pals and you don't have tits so I'd suggest you get your hand off me."

"Sssorry Simon I just...should we keep her here? What if this is a trap?" He starts rambling and I stop listening.

"Alright calm down old man, don't get your stethoscope in a tangle."

"Well I'm surprised you even know what that word means". Someone's getting ballsy.

I chuckle to myself as I turn to look at Jane Doe who is now standing.

"Where the fuck am I?" she says wide eyed and panicked. My eyes travel to her hand which is holding a scalpel. Holy shit even her voice is beautiful.

"Now calm down you're safe, I saved your life" I raise my hands to prove I'm no danger to her. Her eyes narrow as if not trusting me.

"I said where the fuck am I? Why am I here?" She sounds out of breath and her legs start shaking. Carson moves in front of me surprisingly.

"I'm Doctor Carson, and this is the Sanctuary. We found you out behind a house beaten up pretty bad; you need a lot of rest. We can't give you anything yet for the pain but we were able to snap your bone back in place in your arm."

She just stares back at him terrified. Her whole body is shaking. For some reason all I want to do is assure her I'm the good guy, that she can trust me.

"Look I promise we're here to help you, you aren't in any danger. I could've left you to die but I didn't. You just need rest because you look like you're about to collapse and I'm not sure if I can run that fast to catch you." I say hands still rose.

"You don't fucking touch me! I'll fucking kill you if you ever touch me!" tears start streaming down her face. Without thinking I take a step forward, in my mind trying to comfort her and she tenses her body for a fight. No you fucking idiot why would you step forward...

"Well excuse the fuck out of me; it looks like I'm late to the fucking party."

No....he's not here right now...Not this 6'2 intimidating fucker...he'll just scare her more.

"My. My. Who's this fucking beauty? I don't think you and I have been acquainted, I'm Negan."

He steps forward paying no mind to the knife she has. And just like that she drops from exhaustion. Negan catches her and he stares at her face in awe like the rest of us have.

"Well fuck me Simon, you never told me I was that good lookin'!"


	3. Sleeping Beauty

Warning: Strong language

Word count: 1,817

Chapter 3: Sleeping Beauty ( Amelia's Perspective )

"No please don't hurt her! Please, I'll do anything." I plead.

"Amelia it's okay." She looks at me with a loving expression. "Amelia listen, I love you."

All I see is red.

I spring up from my bed, gasping for air. I look from side to side, and slowly realize that there's no one in the room. What the hell? Where am I? Everything is foggy as hell. Looking around the room, it's not very big, and the bed takes up half of it. There's a little classroom desk with a chair attached, and a small window. I sit up to look outside and pain shoots up from hip to my arm. Looking down, there is a bright pink cast attached to my arm, and I'm wearing different clothes. I briefly flash to being on a roof and hearing gun shots. The doctor--

There's a quick knock on my door and before I can even move a tall man with black hair and a peppered beard swaggers in. I mean swaggers. He's the guy that was in the doctor's office. "Good fucking morning Princess." He literally takes up this whole fucking room. He must be close to 9 feet because my whole head is turned up toward him. He's nicely dressed somehow, in a classic black leather jacket with a nice ass belt. With my fogginess I semi forgot he was an actual person that could figure out that I was staring and not speaking, taking in all of his features. He seems to know exactly what I'm thinking because a smirk seems to curl up on the right side of his mouth. Cocky.

"Negan is it?"

"Well look who's got her pretty little shit together finally." He moves over to my bed and sets a barbed wire baseball bat on the chair. My eyes follow his every move as I search his body for any other weapons as he sits at my hip. His weight pushes the bed down and gravity fucks with my hip, forcing out a little whimper.

"Oh shit sorry! My fucking bad!" he says as he scoots down toward my feet.

First he comes into my room unannounced, and now he's brought me pain. "What do you people want with me?" Control yourself...

"So she's fucking sassy, I like that in a woman" He smiles and licks his lips. I practically see the heat rising in his body. I shift back toward the wall, which hurts like a bitch but I have to keep it together.

"I mean it. I've asked this about a hundred times and it hasn't been answered. What am I doing here?" I've come to the conclusion that they aren't going to outright kill me, they bandaged me up pretty good. I've seen the look people give off when they are ready to hurt someone. So this helps me stay calm; or is it my ego thinking I know everyone?

"You should be a little more fucking grateful. My men saved your ass from a horde of corpses a week ago. Doc said you would've died if we hadn't found you." He smirks and shifts his body to become bigger looking. Paul Bunyan.

1\. I've been out for a week?

2\. Why am I in a room instead of the doctor's office?

3\. Starting to rethink staying calm

I quickly change my expression. Take control. Forcing my gaze down I fiddle with my thumbs. "You're right, thank you for saving my life." I force a half smile. As I look up I see him just staring at me with a blank expression, moving his eyes around my face. "Negan?"

I see his eyes snap out of whatever he was thinking about as he looks at me with a soft smile "I didn't get your name yet princess."

Tell him it's Sally! Why the fuck should I give him a fake name, it's not like he can look that shit up in a database. Really, princess??

"Um it's Amelia, you can call me Amy if you'd like."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" He chuckles but his eyes start to get darker and darker.

I lean back; he's so intimidating and scary.

You can't read him all the way yet, you aren't scared.

"Well first of all, you don't have to fucking cower when I'm around, you're safe with me. Second, you have a beautiful fucking first name; I'll be calling you that, alright kitten?" He leans in closer and almost purrs his compliments. I can already tell he thinks he's the shit. And maybe he is.

Two pet names in two minutes? Really?

Judging by his personality there's no way he isn't in charge. If he isn't in charge, he's probably plotting to kill the leader and take control. Dig a little into his skin. "So I'm guessing you're the man in charge, or was it that other man talking to me in the doctor's office?" I attempt to cross my arms, but the cast doesn't help me get the full effect.

He chuckles loudly hurting my ears. His face becomes serious and his eyes become almost black. "I'm the fucking guy in charge here. When you need anything, you come to me. Which fucking reminds me! My men used resources to save you; Carson used supplies to heal you. You fucking owe us for that."

A shiver runs down my spine. Owe them? Waking up to fucking debt? I never liked that shit before the apocalypse. "And how exactly is that repaid?" I ask nervously.

"Well, we have a system where you work for points. That buys you food, shelter, and all the fucking necessities you could dream of." I can tell he takes great pride in his kingdom. He explains how it works like he's describing a piece of art in a gallery.

"Ok." Is all I can muster up. The memories of waking up for the first time here come back briefly. The tall man with the mustache seemed to only want to help me. It's just so hard to trust anyone anymore. Is this a start? Probably not.

All I really want to do is sleep more, even though apparently I've been in and out for a week. You've always been lazy. "What time is it?" Maybe it's almost dark and I can use it as an excuse to be left alone.

He lifts his leather sleeve to reveal an all-black watch. The way he moves his arms; like there's a million women's eyes on him at all times. He is showing off but acting all nonchalant. I start to feel a little pissed off and I don't really know why. "It's almost 2pm. Damn girl! I came in here about 3 fucking times today and you're just waking up at 2 in the fucking afternoon."

I take a gulp and mumble, "You were in my room while I was asleep?" This fucking guy.

He shifts an inch closer to me and places a hand on my leg. It takes every ounce I have not to swat that bitch away and run. I stare at my leg trying to nicely give the hint of not appreciating it being there, as I look up to him, he still has a devious smile on his face. "Well I had to be the first one to see you wake up and talk to you. Didn't want you going fucking psycho on one of my men now did I?" His eyes drift down to his hand and he pushes out his lips as if deciding on saying something.

"What is it?" I can tell he wants to say something or do something. At this point calling him on his shit can maybe break him down so I can understand my place in all of this better.

He looks at me with a hint of shock and it quickly leaves his face. Ok Mr. Poker face. "I'm fucking taken aback by your beauty. Sure there are a few hot ladies here but you're something else." He pauses again and does that lip thing and drops his gaze slightly. "How do you feel about marrying me?"

I can't stop myself from laughing in his face. His eyes lift to mine, and I shit you not, just for a split second I saw nervousness. This quickly leaves his face and turns into disbelief, so I change my expression.

"Oh I'm sorry, what?" I soften my voice and force a neutral expression. His expression changes too, something close to anger and confusion. "Fucking never mind!" He starts to get up and I barely catch his hand. Once again I get a shocked look spread across his face. Maybe he's just not use to people surprising him. "I'm sorry I didn't know you were serious, we've only just met..." He still tries to leave. "Hey! Talk to me." I squeeze his hand. Without really looking at me he walks over to his weapon and speaks.

"Look if you married me, you wouldn't need to work for points, you'd have better living corridors, and I'd keep you safe." He still refuses to look at me.

Does he always propose to a woman in the first 10 minutes of meeting her? If so, he probably has a shit ton of wives. I've always considered myself a god damn expert in human emotion. I can read people within minutes of meeting them. A warm sensation sparks in my belly. I can tell he doesn't know I see everything on his face. He's good at hiding his emotions but not that good.

I can use this...But right now I don't have the mind and soul to deal with this shit so...

I let go of his hand and press it to my head, "Look I ah, I..." I start shaking my hand that's on my forehead for extra effect. "I feel ah..." I start slowly swaying back and forth.

"Fuck...hey take it easy." He comes back around to my bed and takes my head and waist and slowly lowers me back down to a laying position. My face is buried in his chest, and I got to say, he smells really nice. Who smells good in the apocalypse? Who are these people? Suddenly remembering how I must smell makes me cringe.

He brushes my hair back and glides his hands over my cheek. I shut my eyes as if I'm falling asleep. "Sleep now princess." He says in a low huff. For a moment he lowers his head and I feel his hot breath on my forehead. I fight the urge to open my eyes to scare him off, when suddenly I hear the door softly click behind him. I have so many questions but my mind wants to shut the hell down. They saved me, and then proposed to me. I must be in a coma.


	4. Dangerous Flattery

Warning: Always language, Brief sexual content (mild)

Word Count: 1,903

Chapter 4: Dangerous Flattery ( Simon's Perspective )

"Hey babes, whatcha up to?" Here we go. I look up to see a woman standing with her hands on her hips. She has big dark brown eyes and beautiful silky hair. She looks about 10 years younger than me. The amount of regret I feel when I see her makes me feel pretty fucking shitty. So I take comfort in avoiding her at every turn. I guess today won't be a day where I could do that. "Heya Samantha, nothing much just uh...wanderin." I scratch the back of my head and force a smile. I don't want to come across as a dick, but something tells me she doesn't take hints.

"Arat told me you brought in a new girl", she twirls her black hair giving me puppy dog eyes. "I heard she's a looker. Is that where you're going now?"

God damn Arat. Always in some else's shit.

"Look Samantha, I'm kind of busy, but it was nice seeing you." I try to push past her but she sticks out her arm to block my exit and she leans too close to my face. "Thought you were just wandering? You know you didn't seem too busy to get up on all of this before you left on your little supply run last week." She takes her free arm and places it on my neck.

I flash to that night when we were both drunk off our asses and fooled around. She'd been all over me since she got to the Sanctuary and I thought why the hell not? Ever since then I can't fucking shake her. I feel bad that we did the deed in the first place; it shouldn't have gotten to that point. But I've just been so lonely lately—

Removing her hand from my neck I speak softly. "Okay listen little lady. I had a good time with you." Not exactly a lie. "But I kind of need to be alone right now, all this drama dealing with a new group and constantly going on runs. I wouldn't make you happy; I wouldn't have any time too." Not exactly a lie.

She steps back and looks me dead in the eye. I can tell she's hurt; her face starts to go red. Dick move Si. She suddenly steps into me, grabbing the back of my head with a firm fist and forces her mouth onto mine. She tastes like sweet mint and salty sweat. I hate to admit that it's nice to be close to someone, to touch someone. She doesn't stop kissing, and I don't stop her. I get tangled up in my own selfish shit that the thought of hurting her more turns my stomach. Trying to break free from her grasp she holds my head still shoving her tongue further down my throat. Kind of hot.

I forcefully pull her hand off the back of my head and speak harshly. "Look. That's not going to happen again, got it? I don't wanna hurt you more than I have." She looks stunned for a second then her face turns dangerously bitchy. "Listen here big boy, you can deny this all you want but I tasted the hunger in you just now, I'll be waiting for you when you change your mind." She smiles a devious grin and turns on the heels of her feet swinging her hips back and forth down the hallway.

I have to give that woman points, she knows what she wants. Are you blushing out of flattery?

Still a little confused as to what just happened, I turn around to see Jane Doe standing in the hallway. Fuck my goddamn life. She probably just got here and didn't see or hear that conversation with Sam I just had, right? She's wearing the flannel she came here in along with the pink shorts and black tank top I grabbed for her. My god, her legs! I stare in awe and I can't really muster up anything good or cool to say. "I feel like you're always behind me up to somethin." Oh my god what the fuck Simon? You're a creep now, or are you calling her a creep? I physically wince at the words as they leave my mouth.

As I prepare for her to start yelling at me again I look up at her to see a lazy half smirk conjure up onto her perfect face. Yeah this blushing shit has to stop right goddamn now. "Are you calling me a creep? First you save my life and bring me to a foreign place, and then I wake up to the ramblings of two sexually frustrated adults, which in fact turns out to be you. You can imagine my heads spinning with information."

She walks over to me, and I notice I'm holding my breath for some reason. I slowly let the air out without her noticing. "Well ah..." I don't really know what to say. While I'm searching for words she decides to break the ice. "What's your name?" She is so close to me, I bet she feels warm and soft. "It's just Simon." She just stares back at me tilting her head slightly. "My name is Amelia. But you can call me Amy if you'd like." Okay, I'm really trying to find something wrong with her because even her name is beautiful, and it's pissing me off because she makes me go dumb every time we speak. "That's uh, a really pretty name for a pretty woman, Amelia." I let her name roll off my tongue. I can have swagger.

"You're the second person to say that today. You aren't going to propose to me are you?" She says laughing. Just like that my heart sinks and a nasty knot makes its way to my throat. Well he didn't waste time now did he? "Um, no we've just met, but get me drunk and we'll see what happens." She laughs sweetly and nudges my shoulder as if we've known each other forever.

She looks up at me with a sort of embarrassed expression and moves her hair behind her ears. "So um, look, about freaking out on you...you were just trying to help...so eh, thanks for saving my life."

"Well, ah, don't mention it. Plus, I doubt a little lady like you could actually get a leg up on me. I say with the utmost respect." I say clapping my hands together.

She looks at me with a dangerous smirk riding up on the side of her mouth. "Are you so sure about that Simon?"

I stretch a smile across my face because I've just met the lady and already made an ass outta myself. I don't wanna say that I'd have her on the ground beneath me in a second with her weapon thrown across the room. Beneath me...

"So...is there food around here? I'm really fucking hungry, and I don't really know how the points work yet." So she obviously had the sense to say no to him. Negan's probably pissed.

"Sure thing Darlin', I'll buy. And while we're at it, I'll take you on a tour of the place."

"That sounds grand."

"Hey Robyn! I'd like you to meet our newest member Amelia. Amelia, this is Robyn our head cook." I say gesturing to the both of them.

Amelia steps forward and extends her hand. "Oh please! Come here!" Robyn comes out from the kitchen and squeezes Amelia till she turns purple. Amelia makes eye contact with me and all I can do is silently laugh and raise my hands to indicate there's nothing I can do. Robyn does this with every new comer. She likes to say that everyone needs a little love in the end of the world.

Robyn is a 5 foot old woman that's been here for a few years. Her food and personality reminds me of my grandmother. "You guys are just in time for the first round of dinner; we have spaghetti made with fresh herbs we got from the new garden." Robyn serves up the proper amount for both of us and we take a seat, as the first flows of people come into the cafeteria.

Amelia scans the room full of people; I can tell she's overwhelmed by the big crowd. I wonder the last time she actually saw this many people; alive that is. "It seems like you guys have it made here. It seems like a nice place to stay for a while." She says swirling her noodles with her fork. My response should be me praising Negan for all he's done and that she would always be safe here. Which is true to a certain extent, but shit, I'm not talking him up to her.

"This place is what its name states, a Sanctuary. I helped build this place with Negan and a few others; I must say, I take some pride with that." I pause and avert my eyes from hers and shyly take a bite of my food. Okay how can I say this without seeming creepy? Whilst chewing my food I point my fork at her and casually say, "Amelia I really hope you decide to stay here, I'm sure you're going to fit in real good."

She gives a small smile in response and mimics my fork movements. "How about the rest of my tour?"

"And here are the washrooms, which by the smell of it, looks like you need a rest stop here." I chuckle. She playfully slaps my arm and then smells her arm pits. Her face cringes and her cheeks flush. Now who's blushing? "Well that's embarrassing, but you're definitely right."

"No don't be embarrassed, I saw corpse guts all over your ass so..." That really just left your mouth.

"So you were looking at my unconscious ass huh?" Her tone goes serious and her face turns dark. She puts her good arm on her hip waiting for an explanation. "Noo! I mean yeah, but it wasn't like that!" She walks toward me and I brace myself for a slap in the face, which I guess I deserve.

She gets close to my face; I'm talking an inch away. She looks me dead in the eye and after a few long seconds she laughs in my face. "So are there towels in the showers?" I step back stunned. This woman is crazy, just like me. "You know you might have some of the devil in ya." I say awkwardly laughing.

"I like you Simon, a lot." She says looking up at me. Okay I'm pretty sure there's a gas leak somewhere. "Did you hit your head when you fell from that roof? Does the good Doc need to check you out?" I touch her head looking for a bruise. I can't help myself from smiling.

"Oh shut up, I'm a grown ass adult and I can't give you a compliment?" She takes a step back and then smirks whilst lifting her hand in the air. "Look you have a good mustache that's it. It's not like I'm going to grab your face and start making out with you." She turns around and prances into the shower room. I stare back in disbelief, but I can't help myself from chuckling. She's proved in the last hour that she's open and can make me laugh. She's even more amazing than I thought. What's the catch?


	5. Gin or Scotch?

Warning: Scene of abuse, please be warned. Language, Suggestive Conversation, and Drunkenness.

Word Count: 2,726

Chapter 5: Gin or Scotch? ( Amelia's Perspective )

"Now wait your turn miss, you're hot and all but I like um young." And just like that she's dragged into our tent. "No! You son of a bitch you don't fucking touch her!"

"MMiss I'm sorry bout him, it'll be over soon." I thrash around with my arms bound. I'm frantically trying to break free; then I hear her scream.

"Jesus!" I fling up splashing water on the ground. It takes me a second to remember where I am. I can't believe I fell asleep. These nightmares won't fucking quit. This bath is so warm; I guess my body needed to relax.

"Hello? Are you okay in there?" I hear a woman's worried voice.

Oh shit! "Um yeah, a spider crawled on my arm that's all!" I shout from behind the curtain.

"Okay then..."

I let out a soft sigh at my awkwardness, and slowly sink into the water before getting out. Once I stand up I feel nauseous for a second. Must be the heat. I slowly wrap my towel around my body and open the thin plastic curtain to reveal a woman staring at herself in the mirror. She has beautiful dark skin and is about my same height and body type. How long did I sleep?

She looks at me through the mirror and she seems to automatically recognize me. Her eyes follow me all the way to the sinks; Okay not the best vibe...

She seems to force a smile whilst she extends her hand to introduce herself. "I'm Samantha! And you must be the new girl Amelia!" She says squeaky and full of energy. "Yup that's me, Amelia. Nice to meet you Sam." I say returning her hand shake.

You know, some people just give off immediate vibes whether good or bad. I can't quite put my finger on why, but I see this weird fake behind her smile. Does she know something I don't?

"That must have been one scary spider for you to yell like that!" She has this creepy ass smile on, and I really don't want to be here anymore. I shrug my shoulders and awkwardly chuckle. "Yeah one of the hairier ones I guess."

"You should be careful around here, all sorts of critters bite." Her smile drops ever so lightly and her eyes become a shade darker. Just like that we're not in the Sanctuary bathrooms. We're in the forest surrounded by rotters in a Mexican standoff. With both fingers on my gun I stare into her smirking eyes. I want her dead, I want to protect myself. I don't respond well to threats.

I feel my mouth twitch as I fight my instincts to lunge at her. Before all this shit, I had never even shot a gun let alone had this animalistic anger. My brain has rewired itself to not take any chances anymore. This girl isn't Negan...I can take her.

Two girls walk in totally oblivious to the energy here. "Haha, did you see the way he looked at you! He was so embarrassed! Oh man you must be the new girl!" I turn to them in an almost robotic movement and then head straight for the door. Just as I make it to the door frame I hear Sam open her mouth one last time. "Nice to meet you! I'll be seeing you."

I get back to my room quickly. Just realizing I left my clothes in the bathroom, I gently lay down on my bed. There's no way in hell I'm going back to get them now. I look down to my hand and realize it's almost purple from me clenching it so hard. My stomach growls, but all I want to do is sleep off this anger.

~

I wake up from the harsh heat coming in the window from the sunshine. My stomach makes a sound I can only describe as a whales mating call. Fuck I need food. I only have my flannel; no underwear or shorts. "Oh!" Reaching under my bed I find my old jeans I came here with. With one sniff I throw them across the room in disgust. Well I've adjusted to the life style I guess.

Helpless I sit on my bed half naked, not knowing what to do. Pulling up my flannel, I look at my yellow and purple bruises on my ribs. My trembling hand lightly traces over them, and I notice I'm not wincing as much as I normally do. "My tough little baby", is what my mum use to say when I got hurt. A stab of pain hits my chest and I realize I haven't thought of her in a long time. I slam my eyes shut to try and stop my eyes from watering, this doesn't work.

I hear footsteps approach my door and I barely make it under the covers before there is a knock.

"Come in." I say scanning my bed to make sure I'm completely covered.

"Oh sorry if I disturbed you Amelia, I was told to retrieve ya." I'm not getting food am I?

"Get me for what? And I'm sorry I don't know your name." I notice that he doesn't just blankly stare at me. I like you.

"Oh it's Dwight, and Negan wants you in his corridors." He says extending his arm for me to walk ahead of him. "Here's the thing Dwight, I have no bottoms on, do you guys happen to have a lost and found...?" Well this is embarrassing.

Dwight's back within 2 minutes with a fresh pair of jeans. As he walks into the room fully, I get a look at his face. It seems pretty normal; he has short blonde hair and the typical redneck presence. He keeps his eyes to the floor the whole time; he gently lays the pants on my lap. What a gentlemen.

He swiftly closes the door and I quickly change. I'm really surprised he knew my size; these pants hug all my curves just right. I'd be excited to show them off any other day but today the world has already ended and I'm going to meet a guy that doesn't know the meaning of subtlety.

As we wander the Sanctuary he's completely silent and I'm actually thankful.

I follow him all the way down a long hallway and come across a beautiful room filled with women in black lingerie on black couches. What the actual fuck. In the back of the room there's a bar and I see him standing there pouring two drinks.

Dwight looks a little unnerved once we enter the room. He clears his throat to get Negan's attention. Negan turns around almost cartoon like and smiles at us. "Well it's about fucking time Dwight!"

Dwight nods then heads out the door. I wonder what the story is there...

"Amelia." He purrs out my name and raises a glass to me.

I walk over to him trying not to look at all the eyes on me as I do. I take the glass and give it a sniff. "Scotch, nice." He then looks at me a bit stunned and starts laughing his ass off.

I interrupt his laughter with a slightly annoyed question. "So you wanted to see me?"

"Well fuck me! I'm just trying to enjoy a nice fucking damn near perfect glass of Scotch with the company of the Sanctuary's finest." His eyes slightly travel to one of the women sitting down. She has medium length brown hair and a worried look on her face. She refuses to make eye contact with me; she's just staring at the door.

"And who are they?" I refrain from making my voice sound bitchy but to be honest I feel like I'm in a strip club and it's just not my style. "Those pieces of ass belong to me. They're my wives." I bite my lip to hold in my laughter. What the fuck is wrong with this psycho path? His eyes drift down to my lips and I see his whole body shift to make himself look bigger. He looks like he wants to dig into my flesh just as much as rotters do.

Before the dead came to life I had this borderline sick obsession with knowing all the ins and outs of a person, it made me comfortable; no risk of being surprised. After the apocalypse I turned that talent into getting what I want. I try not to judge myself too hard because you could be killed by a rotter, or a person trying to get your bag of chips at any second. So it's hard to turn it off, I feel kind of evil, always plotting against someone for my benefit. I'm not too sure yet if I need to do that with Negan.

"Your wives...plural?" I question.

"Look I had that fucking hillbilly drag you here because I want you to see the fucking benefits of marrying me. These women have it fucking made. They literally sit around all day and paint their fucking toe nails." He flings his arm pointing at all of them.

"Well I'm not much for sitting around all day doing nothing." I shift my eyes to meet the brown haired girl whose eyes are lost in thought toward the floor.

He steps closer to me and grabs my chin with his gloved fingers. Instead of cowering I look him dead in the eyes. He seems to enjoy this because he then leans his face down towards my lips, still making eye contact. I can feel his warm breath on my lips and my body tenses. He brings his face over to my ear and whispers. "That's not all they do, it's a fucking team effort here."

You know all these fucking crazy people make me fucking thirsty. Eh, I need a drink.

I step back from his grasp and lean over the bar. I grab a bottle of Magellan; honestly because I like the color, and take the half full glass of scotch. I balance the bottle on my cast and direct my eyes to Negan. "Is it alright if I have this?" I say causally. He looks at me like I'm crazy, and shakes his head. "I'll let you have that bottle if you spend the day with me tomorrow." He lightly licks his lips. He does that a lot.

I stretch out my lips and slowly tilt my head from side to side. "Done." I start to turn around to leave and feel a hand on my shoulder. "I'll take you on the best fucking tour of your life." He looks so confident in himself. If he didn't have an underlining serial killer complex I might think he was sexy.

"Well Simon already gave me one." He shoots me a slightly pissed of look and I don't want to press my luck so I back pedal. "Alright if you want my company that bad come by my room tomorrow whenever, I'll probably be sleeping if you know what I mean." I hold up the Gin forcing the fakest smile possible, and head for the door. As I'm walking away I feel his eyes on me. I look over to the brown haired girl and this time she returns the glance. She gives me a disapproving stern look; great another women who hates me! Something tells me I'm going to get drunk off my ass every day to deal with these damn people.

As I finally find my way back to the main hallway and back to my room I see Dwight leaning against the wall fiddling with something in his hands. "Hey Dwight, do you know where Simon's room is?" He eyes the blue bottle in my hand, and then his eyes slowly drift back to mine. "Simon went on a trip this morning. Kind of a last minute thing."

I carry the disappointment on my face and he sees it. "He should be back just after dark tomorrow though." Dwight seems really nice, shy, but nice.

"Okay. Well thanks." This has really ruined my day. Why didn't he tell me he was leaving? Holy cow stop thinking that, Amelia!

As I turn to walk away Dwight speaks up. "Hey just wonderin, did you mean to choose the gin?"

"Of course. Why'd you ask?"

He smiles and looks down toward the ground. "Just wonderin."

I give him a nod and head to my room not needing an explanation. Are you really going to drink alone? "Where are you Simon?"

~

"Jesus fucking Christ fuck!"

"Huh?" I shoot my head up off the pillow to immediately fall back down.

I can barely open my eyes and when I do the bright light coming in through the window forces them back shut again. I'm barely able to confirm its Negan squatting next to my bed. "Girl, you fucking puked all over the floor! Haven't fucking drank in a while?" All I can muster is an irritated moan.

I suddenly feel water against my lips, my body takes over and I start chugging. I'm able to sit up a little bit to drink better. There's a steady stream of water falling down my chin to my lap. "Can you sit up all the way?" His hands guide my back straight up; I cling to his arm feeling like I'm going to fall. "Shh, it's alright." His voice soothes me as he rubs my back. My thinking is fuzzy. "I can't sit up right now. I need my bed." I slowly lay myself down and turn over to face the wall, and it all goes dark.

"Baby girl you'll be alright. Boys will break your heart all the time. You'll grow up and you'll find one that makes you feel beautiful in every way." She says as she runs her fingers along the top of my head." No I won't mama. No one will be better than him!"

"You awake?"

I suddenly wake up from the middle of my dream to a familiar voice. I feel his hands stroking my hair and goosebumps rise on my body. "Simon?" I look to my window which is open, to see it's completely dark outside. Jesus you're pathetic. "It's okay you don't have to talk. You can rest." He continues to stroke my hair.

"No I'm okay." I start to rise and this time it doesn't take everything in me to. When I'm eye level with him I see his upper arm is heavily bandaged. Whilst he continues to comfort me I trace just below his wound with my cold fingers. "Are you okay? Your arm."

"Oh, this? Just another trick of the trade. I'm okay, not that deep. What about you?" I can tell there's a story behind this, but I don't want to pry. Although it kind of hurts he doesn't trust me enough. You've literally known each other for like a second.

"I had few drinks, apparently it's been a while.....I still feel horrible." I gently face palm myself, I could normally out drink a lot of guys. Guess that's what happens with you haven't drank in years and lost half your body weight. I just meant to drink to take the edge off, why do I feel like I got hit by a truck? I look up at him through my fingers, still pressed to my face. "You know this is your fault. You left me to drink alone, and to hang out with Negan."

He looks back at me stunned and then softly chuckles. He gently removes my hand from my face and lifts my chin. "How about we make a deal? You don't drink without me, and I'll always tell you when I'll be gone."

"Deal." I suddenly miss his touch too much. "You stopped playing with my hair." I turn my body a little to lay my head on his shoulder. This feels so nice. I really like Simon but I don't know if I would want anything more. It's just so nice to be close to someone again. I don't need to think about anything else right now.

Suddenly I can feel his voice vibrate on the top of my head. As if he was reading my thoughts he speaks softly. "I like being close to ya." My response is my hand traveling to rest onto his.


	6. Kratos

Warnings: Language

Word Count: 2,051

Chapter 6: Kratos ( Simon's Perspective )

Her blonde hair flows down to her ribs. Her jawline defined and her lips perfectly pink. She has a cute little mole on the side of her nose. Her clothes flatter her every curve. I hear her laugh and automatically feel warm. She's the one, I know it.

"Simon get your ass ready we need to report to Negan!" Still exhausted from my supply run, I move slowly. I can't believe I was just dreaming of her. Sitting up on the side of my bed I glance down at my bandage that is now blood stained. "Simon now!" Dwight yells from outside. "Shut the fuck up D. I'm up!" After such a nice night of being close with Amelia, I wake up grouchy without any reason. I shuffle to my closet to find a t-shirt. All of them are dirty; I haven't had time do any laundry yet. God dammit.

Opening the door, I find Dwight leaning up against the wall. "It's about time! Why didn't you check in with Negan last night?" Dwight seems a bit tense, but then again, he always is. "Look I had shit to deal with. It's fine." I brush off his worries. I'm suddenly aware of the way I'm walking as we make our way down the hallway. My shoulders dropped, my arms tense to the point of being able to see every vein in them. Why am I so annoyed today?

"Well howdy fucking do Simon." Negan's face remains emotionless. Not a good sign. "Heya. The run went well, got everything on the list. No casualties." Straight forward is the only mood I'm in today, no sugar coating anything. "So what the fuck is that on your arm then?" He moves across the room over to me, a little too fast for my liking. I've noticed a change in him, I can't place when it started, but he's getting angrier and angrier. "A walker got a little close and one of our guys got a little knife happy." His eyes burn into mine as if he wants to fight me or something. I adjust my stance to let him know I'm aware of what he's thinking.

"Well fucking good then, no one got fucking hurt." He throws up his arms and laughs. "He did fucking pass our fucking training didn't he?" Negan stares at Dwight, who is usually in charge of training our new supply runners. "Arat was actually in charge that day when we had that meeting about the 'expansion'." Fucking Arat, starting shit, once again. I need to talk to that woman soon. Dwight is always tense talking to Negan, even if it's not about anything serious. Looking to Negan's face I can see he takes a little too much pleasure in Dwight's fear. I guess I did too a one point.

"I'll fucking check on that later. While you're here, I need some fucking advice." He plays with his bat Lucille, and wanders to his couch and I follow. "Amelia. I need to find her a job, any suggestions?" He's so casual all of the sudden, it freaks me out. Thank god he has figured out she's not that kind of woman. "When she's all healed up I thought she could become a runner on my team." I've been wanting to ask him this since she got here, but I knew he needed to deal with the marrying bullshit.

Negan takes a few long seconds of silence as he looks at my face trying to figure something out. "Fuck, are you two close already?" He questions. "Sure, yeah." I say casually. He suddenly stands towering over me clenching his jaw, staring me down. What in the hell is wrong with him today? It's like he's PMSing. Still making eye contact with me he speaks to Dwight. "Well let's see what Amelia fucking wants then." Dwight's eyes look over to me in question for a brief moment before he heads out the door.

I know Negan doesn't like not getting what he wants, but Amelia and I have a connection at least. He's just an overly cocky prick. A prick I love, but a prick none of the less. It'll take time, but he'll be happy for me. So she's already yours huh? I can't help a soft smile rise to my lips. Mine; sounds good. Everything is so clear sounding in this building; I can hear Dwight's classics shuffle as they approach the door. As the handle of the door turns I look down and randomly wipe my hands along my pants and then run my fingers through my receding hair. My stomach suddenly turns at the thought that she might judge me for that.

"Good morning princess! Please, have a fucking seat." Negan casually orders. Amelia wanders to the couch that is opposite of us and sits. Amelia is wearing new clothes I haven't seen before; a blue hoodie and new dark jeans. The jacket makes her eyes stand out. So pretty. "How was your appointment with the good doc?" First new clothes, then Negan knows all about her appointments and shit. I start tapping my foot in frustration. All attention is on Amelia; all wondering if she's ready to train. "Well, I found out I have a high pain tolerance that's for sure. But Carson said my arm is healing nicely, and I should be healed in a few weeks." I've noticed she likes to pick at her clothing and avoid eye contact when she's talking to Negan; maybe she's scared or of him.

"Good you can start training." I speak up. Negan's eyes travel to mine and I can tell he wanted control of the conversation, but I'm his right hand and he's always trusted my choices. I'm not going to let a woman ruin that between us. "Amelia, like I've said before, you need to earn your fucking keep here, so Simon here wants you to train to become a runner for me." Negan scoots to the edge of the couch and leans over attentively. 

"I know I need to earn my keep. I'm not, and have never been, a freeloader. I don't know how you guys train, but I'm a pretty good shot with my right arm, and it's not wrapped in pink right now so I should be good." Her voice stays in a matter of fact tone. Any other person, talking in any other tone would've been in trouble talking to Negan like that. "I'm glad to fucking hear that. Did you have prior training in weapons before this shit fest? Did your daddy teach you anything?" Negan questions. Daddy? Really? I shift uncomfortably in my seat at the term.

"No he didn't. When you have to survive in a world like this, you do everything you can to stay alive." Amelia looks down to her hands and I see her knuckles turn white from clenching so tightly. She's been through hell; everyone has, maybe one day she'll open up to me about it. Dwight walks over to stand by Amelia and speaks directly to her. "The training is meant for us, and you, to know your place here." I have to admit that I'm a little worried for Amelia. Maybe she should just stay with a job inside the compound instead of constantly being in danger. Just like that, my head is whirling with all the worst possible outcomes.

"Look we'll test if you're a good fit out there, if you feel any worries about it, we will find another place for you to work. Communication is fucking key here! I want my people to survive, not make stupid fucking mistakes and get themselves killed." Negan stands and extends his hand to Amelia's. As if it was in slow motion, I watch her lift her right hand unto Negan's and turn for the door. I watch in confusion as Negan calls Dwight to follow. Right before they get to the door Negan looks back to me over his shoulder and smirks. This motherfuck! So this is what his big plan is? To piss me off by trying to get close to her? Is that why he's so moody today?

I rise slowly off the couch and follow the three of them. I know Negan too well to know he wants a reaction from me. I'm too stubborn to let that happen, so I take up staring at the backs of them in hate. Amelia's hand pulls away from his and turns unexpectedly at my face. "Are we training now? I haven't even eaten yet." After last night's fiasco her stomach is probably bone dry. "Training can be quick if you're as good of a shot you say you're. If not, you'll never get any food in that tiny stomach of yours." I sport a small smirk at my tease toward her. Her eyes widened and then she breaks out in laughter. Alright Negan, you and I are tied.

"Cam! Open the gates please!" Dwight yells. I don't even look up at him. Ever since Jimmy, I can't fucking take Cam's voice. We were on a run a few months ago; very simple, in and out. My whole team was soon surrounded by a ton of corpses' thanks to a stupid mistake and Cam freaked. Whilst shoving past some of my guys to run, he pushed Jimmy down and that was the end of him.

Of course Cam moves as slow as he can, which doesn't help my annoyed mood of the day. The four of us make our way to our little training area, a little less than a mile away. It's basically just an old overrun parking lot. It's crazy how this world has changed. Who knew I'd be training a woman how to shoot a gun in the back of a Denny's parking lot. The targets are in the shape of a horseshoe, and by targets, I mean paper plates with scary faces drawn on by the children of the Sanctuary.

"Alright doll. Let's see what you can fucking do!" Negan hands her a gun then slowly moves behind her to whisper something in her ear. "Yeah I think I got it." Amelia nervously laughs in response. Stay calm Si. Stay focused. Amelia shoots the pistol exactly six times, hitting every target. Not exactly in the middle of everyone, but pretty damn close. Excitement wells within me. She doesn't seem like she needs taken care of. I like a strong woman.

"Holy fucking shit! Hell fucking yeah!" Negan whips around to face her and awkwardly tries to give her a high five. "Oh!" She says as she puts the gun in the back of her pants so she can use her free hand to high five his. "Ladies and fucking gentleman we have us a new fucking Savior!" Negan leans back and cocks his head to look her up and down. My annoyed eyes drift to her face and suddenly my anger is about to get the best of me. Her face; she's blushing! Quickly I move to her side and give her a nudge. "I knew there was something you were hiding from me." I'm afraid to say my voice sounds like a lovey dovey douche.

"If what I was hiding was my ability to shoot better than you, then yes, I was hiding it from your ego." She swings her hip to the side and places her right hand to it. Amelia looks up to me and smiles as she bites her lip. All of the sudden Negan and Dwight don't matter. It's just-

"Negan!" Cam yells interrupting my thoughts. What the hell? All our heads fling to the direction of the compound. Cam slams on his brakes and jumps out of the car. "Negan!" he yells once again. I haven't seen him like this since that day with Jimmy. Sweating beating down his face in puddles, bright red face. Who the fuck did you get killed now? "Yeah I'm fucking here Cam. Slow the fuck down and open your mouth." Negan demands. Amelia looks to me worried, so I grab her hand and give a reassuring squeeze.

Three words I thought I wouldn't end up hearing has left me speechless.

Cam inhales and speaks slowly. "Connor is back."


	7. The Boy Who Lived

Warnings: Language, Violence, Suggestive content

Word Count: 2,938

Chapter 7: The Boy Who Lived ( Amelia's Perspective )

"Connor is back."

I look up to Simon's face; he's turned white. He slowly releases my hand and walks over to Cam's car without a word. Confused as hell, I raise my arm in question. Who is Connor? As I'm left out of the loop, I turn my body to each of them, waiting for someone to speak first. My eyes drift to Negan's and I can't help swallowing in a deep gulp. His eyes have narrowed to the point of becoming small black holes. Clenching his jaw, he stares into Cam with one of the most dangerous glares I've ever seen.

Without warning, Negan walks over to Dwight and takes his arm a few feet away from me. I try my best to listen to their words, wanting desperately to understand. Negan then quickly turns to me and flashes a faint smile. Looking at the creases on his forehand, he's barely keeping everything together. "Keep it up princess. Impress me later." As he passes me, I try to catch a glimpse of Simon in the truck; he's looking at his hands in his lap. I want to yell to him, but something tells me it would just make things worse. Cam peals out of the parking lot, leaving Dwight and I alone.

Shaking my head, I turn to Dwight for an explanation. "Who the fuck is Connor, Dwight?" I cross my arms as best as I can to look serious. He walks over to me and takes the gun from my back pocket and starts to reload it. "Answer me dammit!" I don't want to yell at Dwight, but I hate not knowing things, especially if it makes Simon and Negan go white with fear. "We're just going to focus on getting you trained right now." He moves past me handing me the gun, briefly looking over his shoulder to see if I'm following. "I fucking mean it Dwight." I stand my ground; call it stubbornness.

"Yeah and I mean it too. Not now Amelia." Damn. So it can't be that life threatening right? Simon would've said something...right? "Now I want to see if you can hit a moving target." Dwight leads me to an auto shop a few stores down from the restaurant. It has dark green vines and moss growing in curvy patterns along the sides. I stare up into the beautiful blue sky; I can't get Connor out of my head.

Dwight makes his way by the garage door with his gun ready. "You ready hot shot?" He smirks and lifts the lever. He moves so fast behind the building, out of my sight, catching me off guard. The right side of body leans back in anticipation.

The Georgia heat fries my exposed skin causing bullets of sweat to pour down my body. My eyes scan the half open garage door looking for any sign of danger. I hear a few low growls and my eyes widen.

"Dwight what the fuck!" I scream as a couple of rotters slowly creep out of the garage. The first one out has a missing jaw and its tongue hangs out swinging in the air. My adrenaline runs from my chest, through my veins, down to my hands. I lift my gun fast shooting twice, hitting the two that came out. That son of a bitch! I still hear another loud growl from inside the shop. Running to the side of the garage door, I wait with my gun held high.

It seems like a life time of waiting by the door for the monsters to come out. Fuck this! Swooping under the door I straighten my arm pulling the trigger. One, two, three... they drop. I turn to find one slowly turning my way. Click...click...what the hell? My gun is empty. Seems like déjà vu. Taking action I scramble to see anything I can use. Drill...nope! The rotter gets closer to me as I struggle to find anything to bash this fucker's skull in. Most of these things need electricity.

"Fuck!" The rotter gets a hold of my jacket trying to tear away the fabric. Trying to get away I backup slamming my back into a shelf. My injured arm reaches back to brace myself, but the pain is too intense for me to handle; I go down. The rotter's hands desperately try to claw into my skin. Just one of my hands holds the rotter up whilst the other tries to find something to kill it with. My hand finds something cold; I grab it and force the object into the rotter's skull with one hard swing. The body falls onto mine pinning me down. There's blood and guts all over my jacket. Fucking gross.

I'm left gasping for air as I try to push that piece of shit off me. I look over to the corpse and realize I stabbed that thing with a tire pressure gauge. I laugh to myself and soon realize there could be more; I fling my head up only to see Dwight with his arms crossed. "You know, people usually don't go in at all, but hey!" He has the biggest smile on his face, a white rage takes over.

I rise up fast, charging him. "What the fuck Dwight? No fucking warning? I could've died!"

He raises his hands as if he was innocent. "Look everyone goes through this, you were treated no differently." I stare at him for a long while, trying to get my anger to go down. Dwight's face looks amused and for a split second I think about knocking him down, but from the look of his smile, I'd say he's impressed. It all happened so fast, I stand still trying to calm my body down.

"I better have fucking passed you piece of shit." I shoulder check him as I start walking the direction we came from.

"Hey, look you did really well! You have bigger balls then anyone I've seen train. I bet you could kick a lot of guy's asses." Dwight catches up and gives me a pat on the shoulder. He laughs so hard he holds his stomach. I stop and turn around to see him crouched over trying to gain his breath back. Rolling my eyes I keep walking back home.

Home...?

"Look I'm sorry I just imagined you kicking Simon's ass and I about died." I can tell he wants to go through his little laughing fit again, but soon, both our attention is at the front gate.

There's a younger teenager holding a rifle on guard. He has dark skin with a small Afro; he smiles as he sees us walking up. He's too young for this shit. "Hey Jordan, just got back from training Miss Am. Everything okay in there?" His small smile fades away as he clears his throat. "Connors back and they're all in Negan's office." I watch Dwight as Jordan speaks; Dwight flinches as he speaks the name 'Connor'.

A bit of anger arises in me that this 14 year old knows more than me. I'm so entitled. But things are different now; it could be life or death. I need to know what's going on and I know where to find it. I start to speed walk into the Sanctuary, passing unfamiliar faces. I hear Dwight yell after me, but I don't look up.

I never stopped to really look at how dreary this place really is. The people of the Sanctuary have heavy faces, exhausted from working. The walls made of concrete are a kind of grey that makes you depressed. This place has so many rooms, it's like a maze. Finally, I make it to Simon's room. His room is lit up from the hot sun; I can see all the dust flowing in his room. It's a bit messier then I expected. There's a big pile of clothes on his bed; that I push off to sit. As long as it takes, I need answers.

After several hours of waiting for him to get back to his room, he finally comes in just as I'm drifting off. He drags his feet across the room avoiding my eyes. Moving to his closet he flings the door open and starts looking through the pile of shirts on the ground. "Gah!" He yells and slams the door shut so hard it comes open again. I start to stand when he points a finger to me to hush. "I'm not in the mood to talk, I'm sorry." He sounds so defeated, I can't push him.

Without thinking I make my way over to him extending my arms. He stands still with his eyes blank as I forcefully wrap my arms around him as best as I can. I nuzzle my head in the crook of his neck and slowly speak. "You know, you can trust me, with anything. I'm here." His arms glide up from my hips to my shoulders pushing me back a little to look into my eyes. Suddenly my heart starts racing as his touch tingles down to my spine. I've only known him for a short time but I love being around him. A little too much... Living in the world I live in today, I can't blame my feelings; life is too short.

As he stares into my eyes he leans his head forward to mine, as if asking permission to kiss me. Without asking, my body moves into his, filling any space between us. His lips meet my forehead as his hand travels down to hold mine. My lips pull in, disappointed they weren't used.

Still holding me he speaks, in a hushed voice. "Will you stay with me for a while?"

I hardly noticed we we're lightly swaying together in the middle of his room. With my heart still racing I manage to mumble "of course Simon."

To my shock Simon makes his way over to his bed and clears off the rest of the clothes. He's messing with something in front of him. My heart might explode at this point. "Is this okay?" I nod my head instead of speaking because I don't know what I will say. His muscles are completely toned in a way that isn't too bulky. Simon climbs into his bed shirtless and lifts up the covers for me to get in.

Does he expect anything to happen? Do I except anything to happen? What the fuck does this mean? Is this crossing a line? Am I sweating? How is he that ripped? He's just staring at you waiting for you! What if I don't want to go this fast?

Simon chuckles and rolls over to the other side of the bed. I silently breathe out walking over the bed. This is normal. Not like you haven't been this close to a person in over a year or anything.Taking off my shoes and my bloody jacket I slip into the covers facing his back. My instinct is to run my finger down his back or slide closer to him but I stay on my side completely frozen.

I feel his left hand reach over and grab mine placing it around him. This forces me to be completely pressed up against him. I completely underestimated how lonely I am. I melt into his warm skin. My stomach whirls with this new sensation. I've never been the big spoon.

~

"Amelia it's okay." She looks at me with a loving expression. "Amelia listen, I love you."

My eyes fling open to feel Simon's hands completely wrapped around me. I slowly and quietly turn to see if he's awake. He has a string of drool connected with his mouth and his pillow. He looks so cute sleeping. I turn my head smiling at how young he looks. His hair is sticking out four different ways; I bit lip running my two fingers through one of his spikes. Looking out the window I see night has fallen. I need to talk to Negan; he seems to be the only person left to tell me what I need to know.

As I look back at Simon's face I carefully grab his arms and place them on his chest. He suddenly coughs and turns to the other side of the bed warranting a silent sigh. Grabbing my old beaten boots I make my way to Negan's room.

"Leave me the fuck alone!" I place my ear to his door to hear if they're any other voices. Nope.

My hand drifts to the handle then turns to open to Negan's study. My eyes widen to see his head resting on his arm completely sprawled out on his desk. The now empty bottle of scotch he offered me the other day is completely empty aside from the freshly poured glass. "I told you to fuck off!" He says without raising his head.

"Negan, can we talk?" I'm starting to rethink this.

With a forced laugh he shoots up his head and smiles. "Amelia, what a pleasure, as always."

Making my way over to him my head leans back at the smell. It smells like he bathed in alcohol. "I know you're dealing with a lot, but I want to know what's going on." I sit beside him grabbing his full glass and taking a sip.

"It that fucking so? Why the fuck should I tell you any fucking thing?" His speech is slightly slurred, yeah I've been there too bud.

"Because maybe I can help..." I take a gulp and purse my lips at the taste. "Aright listen, call me fucking nosy but all three of you went fucking cold at Connor's name." Negan glares at me when I mention his name. "Look I'm going to be pretty annoying if you don't tell me what's going on." I say as I cross my legs.

"You might be already there sweetheart." He laughs.

"Look I'm not trying to get the whole fucking Sanctuary in an uproar so you're shit out of luck." He shrugs and goes to grab the glass that is now in my hands.

"Negan. Tell me now." I keep my voice low with an edge to it.

"Will you get the fuck out of my face if I do?" I nod in response.

"Fucking hell, you're difficult. Look Connor and five of my men went out to check on a camp. They were supposed to be back a week ago, so we all assumed the worst. Now that fucker is back covered in blood saying they let him go to send me a fucking message." He suddenly stands towering over me and starts screaming in my face. "ME! Can you fucking believe that fucking shit? Send me a fucking message; boy have I got something for you!" He stands up swaying from side to side trying to grab his baseball bat.

"Woah there!" I grab his bat and move behind his desk. "Okay, let's get you in bed."

"So you want me in bed huh? All you had to do was ask!" He laughs loudly hurting my ears.

"Shut the fuck up, where's your bed?" I say looking around the room. Finally, I see a door on the other side of the room behind Negan. Okay, not in the mood to play this game. I set the bat behind his desk and slowly make my way over to him. Placing a hand on his shoulder I try and lead him to his room. He grabs my hip and spins me around taking my hand in a tango stance. "Negan!" I yell trying to get him off me.

"You don't wanna dance with your king princess?" He laughs again shaking his head as he lets go of me. I stare back at him dumbfounded. All I wanted to do was get my information and go. But you can't do simple shit here. "Now it's you taking care of me! Fucking weird! You sure as hell better hope I don't fucking puke everywhere because that shit is a bitch to clean up!" As the last three words leave his mouth he leans back for emphasis, but he leans a little too far back and stumbles.

I grab his hand and walk him over to his bed. He falls into his bed halfway hanging off. I can't believe I'm doing this for him, I guess I owe him...

Taking off his shoes, I look up to his face to see he's already asleep. Where the fuck are his wives when you need them? I cover him with his dark gray sheets and make my way toward the door. My eyes meet a fancy glass pitcher filled with water. "Ugh, fine." I take the pitcher over to his bed and write a little note. "We're Even-Steven." I smirk as I make my way out into the hallway.

So there's another group in the picture. And they killed our people as a message. Did we do anything to deserve it? A whirl of thoughts flood my brain as I make my way to Simon's room. As I open the door, I hear a light snore and find myself just staring at him. It felt so nice to be with him, he didn't push for anything else but to be close to me. I sigh and make my way over to the bed. As I climb into the covers his eyes flutter open looking at me. He smiles and wraps his arms around me and falls right back asleep. He's a pretty good way to end a shitty day. I could get use to this...


	8. The Rangers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Fills in scenes we didn’t see with Amelia in the previous chapter. Before and After*

Warnings: Language, mention of violence, some light adult themes.  
Word Count: 2,281  
Chapter 8: The Rangers ( Simon’s Perspective ) 

“So let me get this fucking shit mother fucking straight! You and fuckboy are scoping out the camp, and you let an old man jump you fucks?” Negan paces back and forth; harshly rubbing the back of his neck. I avoid eye contact with him, fearing he’ll take his outrage on me.

“Negan you don’t understand, there was too many of them. The things they did…” Connor trailed off. He stares blankly at the ground reliving the horrors he’s faced. I’ve truly never seen either of them like this.  
Alright good cop bad cop it is. As I clear my throat I soften my voice toward Connor. “Listen I’m sorry we have to interrogate you like this. But you have to understand, they killed our men, your group…this can’t go unanswered.”

Connor’s face drops and silent tears begin to stream down, collecting on his blood stained jeans. I see his hand tighten until his knuckles go white, whilst his eyes are forced in a straight line. I feel so bad for him, I can’t even imagine if my whole team got slaughtered. His team was filled with the new comers, wanting to make a good first impression.

“They live up in the Hightower forest. That’s where we were brought back to. They moved so fast, we couldn’t really see them…” Again Connor trails off. I wish I could give him time to regain his strength, but for all we know, these people could be headed to invade us.

“What did they look like? Did they say anything other than the message?” I push.

“They were all green, and some were in the trees…They didn’t say anything, they just killed us! They killed everyone but me!” Connor stands and grabs Negan’s shoulders, shaking him. “Why didn’t they kill me? Why did they pick me?” Negan stands completely still letting Connor touch him.

I swiftly grab Connor off Negan and set him down on the couch as best as I can. He is so distraught; whaling like his leg has been cut off. “Calm the fuck down Connor.” Negan says with a steady voice. His sudden calmness takes me off guard. We both watch as his freak out starts to decline into a completely still statue. I exchange glances with Negan, and I know there’s not much else we can get out of him today. My thumb finds the side button of my walkie to call the Doc.

Connor sits on the couch completely paralyzed with fear. Steady streams of tears run down from his unblinking eyes. Within a minute Neil and Carson are in the room to take Connor away. Neil creeps over to the couch and steadily bends his arms in such a way; I’d think he was protecting himself against a rabid dog. Without a word Connor gets up un-phased by the sudden crowding of people and starts to walk for the door. Neil looks to me as he turns to grab his arm. Remembering back to my second encounter with Amelia, I rush towards Neil and forcefully grab his hand pulling him closer to me and away from Connor.

I direct my gaze to Carson and whisper to him. “Give him 2 portions of sleeping pills. Space them out. And just tell Gina to take from my points.” He nods and takes Connor’s arm to head out the door. Just before the door closes Connor turns back around to face Negan and I. “The Rangers…that’s what they called themselves...”

Once Connor is out of the room I turn to Negan with my hands held high. No sound leaves my mouth but Negan seems to understand. 

“I want those fucks dead.” Negan stands and swings Lucille onto his shoulder. “They want to fucking send me a motherfucking message? They kill 7 of my men; we’ll kill all of them!” He hisses as he pushes out his chest making himself look bigger. It’s about to get really god damn bloody…  
“You’re right. What’s our plan?” I question.

“I say get the boys ready and we leave tomorrow! They think they can fuck with me?” I stare back at Negan completely taken aback at his plan. He’s going to get us all killed.  
“You know that’s not the answer. We know nothing about them at this point.” My eyebrows rise as I see him walk over to the bar. He grabs a bottle of low quality Scotch off the shelf and sloppily pours himself a full glass.  
“We aren’t going to stay here with our dicks between our legs either! Are you really going to fucking stand there and tell me that we shouldn’t take action?” He challenges.  
I shift my stance to become more serious as I run my fingers through my hair. Calm down Si…  
“Yes. I know we need to take action. All’s I’m saying is we need to be smart about it. If they really just killed our men without any thought, we can’t just charge the castle without a thought out plan!” I challenge back.  
Suddenly Negan is right up in my face practically screaming. “Yeah and who is the fucking boss here? I think fucking me! Stop fucking undermining me for fucking once!” Everything in me tells me to drop Negan right here and now, but with every ounce of strength I have, I force myself to turn around and walk out of his room. 

My vison starts to go red with anger as I barrel down the hallways. So now he thinks I can’t lead? Or he thinks I’m nothing? Nothing but a foot solider? God damn him!

My hand wraps around my door knob harshly as I fling the door open. I shuffle my way to my closet not paying attention to the silhouette behind me. I have blood all over my shirt from handling Connor. As I’m shuffling through my clothes I realize I still haven’t done laundry.

“Gah!” I scream as I slam the closet door shut. As I turn to look at the person in my room, I realize its Amelia and my heart beat slows ever so lightly. My anger declines but as she starts to rise I know she’ll want to talk about Connor and I just can’t…

"I'm not in the mood to talk, I'm sorry." I mumble as I point my finger at her, to make sure she knows I’m serious. Her head turns slightly wondering what happened to me.  
Amelia makes her way to me, and the second she touches me I go numb. No anger, no thinking about the future. I’m here, and she’s with me. "You know, you can trust me, with anything. I'm here." Amelia confides. 

My eyes widen at her words. A sudden urge takes over my body and before I know it, my face is an inch away from hers. I can feel her shaky breath on my lips; I’m completely intoxicated by her presence. I look up into her eyes as I slowly let my face almost connect with hers. Do you really want this to be your first kiss with her? You being pissed off, out of your mind? My face scrunches up at the thought and I decide to kiss her forehead instead.

I’m no good to anybody awake so I decide to move over to my bed, facing away from Amelia to unbutton my bloody shirt. Call it forward, but all I want to do is sleep, and have her by my side.  
I push all the thoughts of ruining what we have, if she doesn’t want to be close to me, completely out of head. With complete hesitation, I turn to her, to find she’s completely consumed by her own thoughts.

I chuckle and decide to turn over. Soon I feel the weight shift from the bed and I can feel her warmth against my bare back. A smile makes its way to my mouth as I reach behind me to grab her hand and place it around my torso. She’s as still as a rock, and I couldn’t be happier. 

For a second I forget about what Negan said to me, what Connor said. It’s me and Amelia, and we’re getting somewhere. I don’t even need to know where that is, but she’s with me.

 

~~

“Well, well, well.”  
“Huh?” I wake up with Amelia wrapped in my arms. We both jump at the voice, and both take a second for our eyes to adjust.  
Negan stands glaring at us with Lucille in hand. I release Amelia from my grasp and quickly get up out of my bed to look for my shirt. I find myself feeling guilty and notice my head is hanging down. Am I really on my toes because of this asshole?

“You could’ve knocked Negan.” I stand still by Amelia who is now sitting up on the bed. Negan won’t take his eyes of her, giving her a monstrous glare. I don’t think so…  
“Alright down to business.” I point my finger at the door so he gets the point of we aren’t staying here. My eyes wander from his to Amelia’s, and I realize there must be something I missed. Why is he so goddamn pissed at her?

Clearing my throat, Negan finally breaks his stare, only to turn to the door without making eye contact with me. I flash Amelia a smile and grab my holster, then head out to catch up with him. “So are you going to tell me what’s going on?” I announce.  
He stops and pushes out his lips pondering his response. “I woke up with a new perspective. You were right; we can’t go storming into the fiery pit and get fucked. So…Your group and Arat’s are going to get intel for me.”

“When is this happening?” I question as I fold my arms.  
“A few days, I want to get a fucking move on.” He has a dangerous look on his face and I know there is more going on.  
“And I’m assigning Amelia to Dwight’s group. She still has to train more before I send her out there.” 

“That’s complete bullshit.” My tone stays calm but it won’t take long for things to escalate. “Amelia proved to be skilled enough, as you said, we’re just getting intel. You trust her to be with Dwight over me?” I watch him carefully, noticing he looks…almost amused.

“I’m not sure you have your head on straight Simon. Judging from what I just fucking laid my eyes on, I’m not sure you have the exact interests in her as I do…” He shrugs and looks innocent.  
“Fuck you! You don’t know shit about her, or what we do.” I step a foot closer to him. I can feel my arms tense. The little vein on my temple throbs as my anger from before comes back in a flash.  
“Is that fucking so Simon? Yeah, maybe I don’t know what you guys do, but looking at her little face, I’m not sure you have her where you actually want her.” He smirks and does his signature amused lean. 

By the time he finishes his sentence, my fists must have lost all blood circulation; I’m squeezing them so hard. I start to turn, knowing I won’t be able to control myself if he says anything else to me. As I make it a few steps away I hear him puff out a small sound, almost saying “Yeah that’s right, walk away”. But it’s enough.

I feel a slight sting on my cheek bone; the real pain is in my hands. Blow after blow, the pain becomes more and more intense. It’s not like back in the day when I could go all day without the pain breaking through the adrenaline. Now a days, it slows me down.

“Simon stop!” I hear a woman’s voice but I can’t stop. This has been a long time coming. I need it out of my system.  
After a good run I’m kicked to the side and my body braces for hit after hit.

“Stop! You’re going to kill each other!” We both don’t listen as his fist connects with my cheek again.

I’m glad to know I’m not the only one with hurt hands. As I lay helpless against the cold concrete I see his shaky bloody drenched fist pull back high into the hair. He’s going for an end gamer.  
My fist connects with his ribs with my middle knuckle slightly raised for more pain. I manage to continuously hit his ribs in the same spot to get him off me.

I spit a good amount of blood out of my mouth onto the ground; Negan does the same. I look over at him with fire still in both our eyes. We both stand, adjusting our stances just in case the other person tries something. For a moment we’re just staring at each other, completely focused on each other’s body language.  
How did it come to this brother? 

“You assholes stop right goddamn now!” Samantha’s arms are stretched out blocking Negan and I from each other. 

“Don’t fucking bother, we’re done.” Negan laughs as he picks up Lucille a few feet away and swaggers away as if nothing happened. My back straightens as a million thoughts run through my head. I turn my head to see half the Sanctuary is standing still looking at me. They wouldn’t dare step in to the ring because Negan’s here.

STOP IT. You’re just pissing yourself off more.

Just him walking away from me, makes me want to go after him again. I thought I got it all out of my system but apparently not…


End file.
